Post by ladygiry on Jun 24, 2006 21:23:59 GMT 9.5
This one just came to me all of a sudden last night and I had to write it:
Antoinette Giry laced Christine into her corset in silence, but she could sense that the girl was tense and who could blame the poor child? She knew Erik was determined to have his young protégé shine, but to sabotage Carlotta right in the middle of a performance? Even for Antoinette that was going so far.
She glanced at Christine’s reflection for a moment as she tightened the laces. The child was even paler than usual with fright and her large doe eyes kept on flitting about the room nervously, as if waiting for him to arrive as he had done before.
Antoinette felt a harsh pang of jealousy pierce her heart for even in this frail, nervous condition Christine was still beautiful. The girl’s face was that of a porcelain doll with her milky white skin and large dark eyes and her luxurious chocolate curls framed this innocent beauty perfectly. She truly appeared the angel Erik saw her as.
Then Antoinette caught a glimpse of her own reflection and sighed inwardly. She had once possessed the innocent beauty of youth, but that was years ago. Her face had long since begun lining with age and her blue eyes, while still lovely, had lost the sparkle of youth that had once resided there. Even her hair already had strands of gray mixed among the silken golden-red waves.
As she finished lacing the corset, she found herself comparing them. Was it really a wonder that Erik had turned from her bed to seek out Christine? The girl was a beauty not past the first bloom of youth with an angelic voice that touched the soul of whoever heard it.
Whereas Antoinette, on the other hand, was nothing more than a ballerina with her glory days long past who took refuge in the teaching of her art. She would never sing with the voice of an angel nor would she ever regain her youthful beauty. Never would she be able to return to the past, but instead be forced to face the lonely future that lied ahead for her.
Once she had finished lacing her in, Antoinette watched as Christine picked up the rose with trembling hands. The child turned to her with so many questions in her eyes, “Why me, Madame? Why does he want me?”
Antoinette only smiled sadly at her and murmured, “Because you are everything I am not, child. Because you are everything I am not.”
End.
Antoinette Giry laced Christine into her corset in silence, but she could sense that the girl was tense and who could blame the poor child? She knew Erik was determined to have his young protégé shine, but to sabotage Carlotta right in the middle of a performance? Even for Antoinette that was going so far.
She glanced at Christine’s reflection for a moment as she tightened the laces. The child was even paler than usual with fright and her large doe eyes kept on flitting about the room nervously, as if waiting for him to arrive as he had done before.
Antoinette felt a harsh pang of jealousy pierce her heart for even in this frail, nervous condition Christine was still beautiful. The girl’s face was that of a porcelain doll with her milky white skin and large dark eyes and her luxurious chocolate curls framed this innocent beauty perfectly. She truly appeared the angel Erik saw her as.
Then Antoinette caught a glimpse of her own reflection and sighed inwardly. She had once possessed the innocent beauty of youth, but that was years ago. Her face had long since begun lining with age and her blue eyes, while still lovely, had lost the sparkle of youth that had once resided there. Even her hair already had strands of gray mixed among the silken golden-red waves.
As she finished lacing the corset, she found herself comparing them. Was it really a wonder that Erik had turned from her bed to seek out Christine? The girl was a beauty not past the first bloom of youth with an angelic voice that touched the soul of whoever heard it.
Whereas Antoinette, on the other hand, was nothing more than a ballerina with her glory days long past who took refuge in the teaching of her art. She would never sing with the voice of an angel nor would she ever regain her youthful beauty. Never would she be able to return to the past, but instead be forced to face the lonely future that lied ahead for her.
Once she had finished lacing her in, Antoinette watched as Christine picked up the rose with trembling hands. The child turned to her with so many questions in her eyes, “Why me, Madame? Why does he want me?”
Antoinette only smiled sadly at her and murmured, “Because you are everything I am not, child. Because you are everything I am not.”
End.
